


Habseligkeiten

by sluttycrimehat



Series: in the company of wolves [2]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, F/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23512825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sluttycrimehat/pseuds/sluttycrimehat
Summary: Feed the wolf in winter, and he’ll eat you in the spring.
Relationships: Hector/Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Rapunzel & Varian (Disney)
Series: in the company of wolves [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691842
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Habseligkeiten

**Author's Note:**

> title is an untranslatable German word meaning: A term for the few, paltry belongings that one finds special due to the sentimental attachment to them.

Spring comes and settles comfortably over the small village. The snow has melted, and every day it seems like there’s some new green thing making itself known. The grasses have come back, flowers are springing up here and there, trees are budding. All of this has always been such a comforting experience, but this spring Rapunzel allows herself to feel just a little more hopeful than usual. 

Hector’s been gone for weeks now, and the dread she had constantly felt that he may have come back has gradually left her. She tells herself that if he had wanted to come back, he would have done so by now. 

It had all turned out to be quite the mess, really. She certainly never could have imagined a world in which men could turn into wolves, but here she was. And while Hector seemed to have been more monster than either wolf or man, there was an ease that came with knowing the rest of the village was at peace with Quirin and Varian living among them. They had proven themselves trustworthy, especially in helping to drive Hector out. 

Rapunzel tries not to think about all of that too often, as it brings the prickle of anxiety back. There’s no point in fussing over what happened, or what could have been. Things hadn’t turned out that way, and for the most part, they were better now. 

The sun has just started to go down when Rapunzel thinks of going back to the treehouse. It’s been a few days since she or Varian had been there, as far as she knows, and the place could do with some proper airing out. The pillows will be plumped, the blankets beaten and hung outside overnight. Tomorrow she’ll come back bright and early, she tells herself, to do some proper spring cleaning. If she’s lucky, maybe she’ll be able to bring Varian along.

The walk from the village to the treehouse is pleasant. Her pace is casual, and she doesn’t think twice about the rustling about her. Animals are waking up, birds are flying home; the woods are finally beginning to feel alive again. Alive and peaceful, and like there’s no dark and terrible thing waiting and watching in the shadows. 

When she gets to the treehouse, she gets right to work. She pulls blankets off of the large pillows, doing her best to fluff them, encouraging them to take a new, unused shape. Some of the blankets are unfurled out of the windows, shaken out and left to air. Others are folded; with spring settling in, there’s no need for so many blankets, especially the thicker ones. She takes the small pile into her arms, and makes her way to the second floor of the treehouse. 

The blankets are set down in a corner neatly where they’ll be out of the way, but still within reach if ever needed. She takes a quick look at her art supplies, and finds herself idly wondering if she had knocked the cup with her paint brushes over? She doesn’t let herself think too much of it as she picks them back up and adjusts them on her table there. It was either an accident or the wind, nothing to worry about. 

Still, though, she finds her gaze wandering to the small black box carefully tucked away in a corner of the table, behind most of her other supplies. The choker that Hector had given her was in there, and she knew she should have long since gotten rid of the thing. Nothing good could come of keeping it, and there were certainly no good memories attached to it. And yet, there it remained. She’d like to think it was a well kept secret, but she had a feeling Varian knew about it. If his senses now were anything like Hector’s, then he certainly did. She appreciated that he didn’t say anything about it. The whole situation had been hard on all of them, and she supposed they were all dealing with it in their own way. 

Creaking above her catches her attention, and she turns her gaze upward. It could be the house settling, but it could also just as easily be Varian. Maybe she just hadn’t realized he was here with her. She hadn’t had anything to do on the top floor, but suddenly she’s eagerly making her way up the ladder. 

As she’s climbing, there’s more creaking, and it’s deliberate and weighty and definitely not the house settling. With a smile, she pushes the door open. 

“Varian!” she says, pulling herself up through the trap door. “You’re here–!” 

But looking around the smallest room of the treehouse, she realizes very quickly that Varian isn’t there. Brow furrowing, she pulls herself the rest of the way up, stands with her hands on her hips. 

“I know I heard something…” she mumbles to herself, slowly moving about the room. “I thought for sure Varian was here.” 

The trap door slams shut behind her, and she isn’t sure what scares her more: that, or the voice that follows. 

“Sorry, Red Riding Hood. Wrong wolf.” 

And there’s Hector, with his foot on the door and his hair undone and his eyes gleaming in the evening light. Maybe it’s the way the shadows are cast across his face, but something about him feels wrong now, worse than anything Rapunzel had felt before. 

“H-Hector,” she gasps, torn between backing herself against a wall, and finding something to use as a weapon. But there’s so much space between herself and him that she knows there’s nowhere to go. “What are you doing here?” 

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” he says with a grin, and sharp teeth show through his parted lips. He steps toward her, and his footfalls sound like thunder to her suddenly. “I know I’m very glad to see you.” 

She’s not happy to see him at all, but she can’t bring herself to say so. She steps back for every one he takes forward, until her back is pressed against the wall. “I thought you’d left…” 

One of his hands comes out quickly, lands heavily on the wall right by the side of her head. He leans in, and his grin broadens. “You ought to know better than to feed a stray. That’s how you get pests.” 

“You’re not welcome here,” she bites back, drawing in deep and steady breaths, standing on her toes to try and make herself look bigger than she is. 

“Oh, is that so?” he chuckles, and his free hand comes up and hovers in front of her face. Looped around his middle finger and dangling against his palm is the choker, and Rapunzel’s throat runs dry. 

“Then, tell me, Sunshine. Why did you keep this?” he asks, but there’s no answer to the question. That same hand moves inward, and his gloved fingers and the pendant alike brush her neck and collarbone. “Such a shame, leaving it to collect dust in that box. It really does look so much better around your pretty neck.” 

She swallows hard, and hates that there’s a heat rising to the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. “You need to leave, Hector. You can’t be here.” 

“But I can be,” he assures her, and he’s leaning in just a little more. She can feel the heat of him now, can smell the must and wild scents that cling to him. He’s so close, and for a moment she’s afraid he might - 

“Rapunzel!” Varian’s voice calls from the first floor. “Rapunzel, are you here? I saw the blankets hanging, so I figured you might be.” 

And as suddenly as it had all happened, Hector is leaning away from her and grinning that wolf’s grin. He presses a finger to his lips, shushing her, and she watches as he moves toward the window. 

He tosses the choker to her, and she lets it clatter to the floor at her feet. 

“Think of me, won’t you?” 

And then he’s gone, and she doesn’t even care to think if he made it to the ground okay. She leans back against the wall, a hand over her heart as she does her best to regain her composure. 

“Rapunzel?” Varian calls again, and this time he sounds closer. She has just enough time to kick the choker out of view before he opens the trap door to the third floor.


End file.
